Researchers in Seattle revealed last year that
captured crows remember the face of their abductor
~ Megan Gannon

You threw the list out the window.
The list I needed to complete the job.
The Plymouth Polara complained.
I didn’t dare.
That was my first clue.

You did not want me to walk out the door.
The five black and blue finger prints
on my bicep
gave testament.
Second clue.
Noted and ignored.

I ironed your shirt.
You did not care for the crease
on the sleeves.
You brandished the iron like a hammer.
Chose your hands instead.
This was the final clue,
the lynch pin that secured my flight.

My mother never liked your hands.